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The Cleanup

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Overview

Matthew Worth is a mess. Somewhere between a good cop and a bad screwup, he botched a marriage and a career. His fellow officers think he's a joke. His commanders are tired of cutting him breaks. Even his wife has left him for a flashy homicide detective. Busted to night patrol at a robbery-prone Omaha supermarket, Worth is doing time, wearing his uniform and asking shoppers if they want paper or plastic. If that isn't enough, he suspects he might be falling for Gwen, the shy checkout girl who may be an even bigger mess than he is. It couldn't get any worse. Until it does. When Gwen comes to him one night scared and desperate for help, Worth discovers just how far he's willing to go to protect and serve. The next thing he knows, he's driving a stolen car with a corpse in the trunk, a pistol in the glove box, and no way to turn back. Everything he doesn't know could get them killed.

Editorial Reviews

The unlikely tale of an unsuccessful cop, a cute grocery check-out girl and her dead boyfriend gives Doolittle (Raindogs) plenty to chew on in his latest crime novel. Officer Matthew Worth, a divorc� with little going for him�careerwise in particular�works security at an Omaha supermarket, where he's developed a crush on check-out clerk Gwen. Innocent flirtation turns messy when Gwen kills her abusive boyfriend and turns to Worth for help, pleading self-defense. Instead of calling it in, Worth decides to cover up the murder, leading to trouble with two dirty narcs who were involved with the murder victim in a money-laundering scheme. From there, secrets, lies and murders pile up, pushing Worth from every direction at once. Doolittle has penned a character-driven yet suspenseful novel about choice and consequence, with a well-crafted lead and a narrative style that's punchy and sincere. Though Worth's motivation is sometimes unclear (even, at times, to himself), readers looking for a tense crime drama�hold the procedure�will enjoy getting inside the head of this well-meaning sad sack. (Nov.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information. -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.

Author Information

Bio of Sean Doolittle

Sean Doolittle is the author of Burn, winner of the gold medal in the mystery category of ForeWord Magazine's 2003 Book of the Year Award, and Dirt, an Amazon.com Top 100 Editor's Pick for 2001. The author lives with his family in Omaha, Nebraska

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Additional Info

Imprint

Random House

Filesize

985.61 KB

Number of Pages

336

eBook ISBN

9780440336419

Excerpt from: The Cleanup by Sean Doolittle

1
In retrospect, announcing himself in the hallway almost seemed funny. Police. I'm opening the door.

The small bedroom in the back of Gwen Mullen's apartment felt like a meat locker. Worth understood when he reached down and felt cold iron: She'd valved off the radiator in here. She'd also opened the windows. Plastic blinds clattered on the chilly breeze.

He raised the Maglite to eye level.

Russell lay naked in a twist of sheets. In the beam of the flashlight, Worth caught glimpses of white amid ragged red pulp. He guessed he was looking at molars. Maybe jawbone. He wasn't sure.

Moving the light around the room, his own breath foggy in the beam, he passed over the nightstand and noticed a dark square centered in a thin layer of dust. He found the lamp on the floor beside the bed, cord trailing, still plugged into the socket near the peeling baseboard.

The lamp came on when he flipped the switch by his elbow, throwing shadows up the cracked plaster wall. By some trick the bulb had remained intact; dark clots of stuff had congealed around the chunky glass base.

Worth automatically reached for the mike on his shoulder. The words sat in his throat, pushing their way up: Three Adam Zero, Three Adam Sixty. His sergeant's car.

He wondered how long the guy had been here like this. He wondered how many times she'd hit him with the lamp.

At some point, he realized he'd released the call button without speaking.

* * *

Worth found Gwen sitting on the floor in the living room, staring at nothing, arms around her knees. A dime-store jack-o'-lantern the size of a Weber grill hulked in one corner, bathing the place in cheap orange light.

He slid a stack of magazines out of his way and sat on the edge of the low coffee table in front of her. There was a big ceramic ashtray shaped like Texas, heaped with butts. None of them looked like Gwen's brand.

"In the bedroom." She pointed. "Back there."

"Gwen," he said. "You showed me."

No response.

"Can you look at me "

If she could, she didn't.

"Can you tell me what happened "

"Didn't you see "

She drifted again, and Worth let her go. In the reflection of a framed race car poster on the wall he could see the jack-o'-lantern standing sentry over his shoulder, jagged mouth leering. For some stupid reason, he found that he didn't like having the thing at his back.

He stood and took a better look around.